Sing
by UnicornDevil
Summary: *REQUESTED BY 107th REVIEWER OF "MISSING SOMETHING"* A storm is raging its way through District 12. When Katniss finds her daughter upset and afraid, what will she do to help comfort her?


**Hello! This is a one-shot is dedicated to ****EBRAJERCECullen 130, the 107****th**** reviewer to "Missing Something". The characters they requested for me to write about were Katniss and one of the kids when they were little. Of course, I picked Danny because she is the main character of "Missing Something" and she is my favorite of the Mellark children I've conjured. Don't worry; I still love Nathan and Jasper, too! So, without further ado, here is "Sing".**

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I sit in the rocking chair in the living room, humming to myself as I listen to the storm raging outside our home. It has me terribly worried, as Peeta has been at the bakery since dawn, yet he hasn't returned. That shouldn't be too much of a worry, though, right? He'll return after the storm has passed.

I sigh and sit up from my chair, the creak of it adding to the eeriness of the storm. I have to check on my baby girl. Who knows how she is fairing in this storm!

I walk up the staircase and towards her room, which was decorated exactly to her suiting. Meaning that it was basically the opposite of a little girl's room- not a piece of lace, a shade of pink, nor a single doll was to be found in her room. Yes, I've obviously raised her well so far.

Peeking through her cracked door, I see her small frame huddled underneath her huge quilt. She is shivering and her pale blue eyes are darting back and forth, yet not far enough to catch my presence. A clap of thunder rings and she squeals, hiding deeper underneath her covers.

I smile to myself. I knew Danielle wouldn't go downstairs to seek comfort in me. She was too stubborn for that. Even at the ripe age of three, Peeta and I have already noticed she's inherited a lot of traits from both of us. My stubbornness and his compassion, my determination and his loyalty…

A sniffle is coming from the large bed and I snap out of my thoughts, looking over to my little girl, who has surrounding herself in blankets, as if to build a force field from the scary storm. I choose this time to walk in, making sure to make a little noise, so she'd become aware of my presence.

I sit down next to her and her sniffling seizes. I carefully pull the blankets off of her and I see her disheveled hair, perfectly matching my shade. Her eyes are red, but she holds a scowl on my face. Yes, she's inherited my facial expressions, too.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" I ask.

She nods harshly and says, "Yes."

Another clap of thunder and flash of lightning sends her squealing form back underneath the covers. I strip the cover off of her and look in the eyes.

"No," she whispers, her face red again. I sigh and take her into my arms, kissing the top of my head.

We stay in this position for minutes, her in my lap. I hum to myself, trying to comfort her from the cruel storm outside. Her sniffles turn into hiccups until the room is silent, although the pitter-patter of rain could still be heard.

"Sing," Danielle demands, breaking our silence.

"What?" I ask, surprised.

"Sing."

"A-are you sure?" I ask, hesitantly. She nods her head fiercely, urging me on. "O-okay."

I think for a moment in my head. What song would be good for a time like this? Must lullabies I know bring up horrible memories in my mind, but I quickly kick them out of my head. I needed to focus on my baby, not on my own memories.

Wracking my brain, I remember a song that I saw in the Capitol's library once when I had to visit Effie. It was an old lullaby, a traditional one, in the country that was thriving before the dark days came and created Panem.

I gulp and, with a deep breath, I start out the lullaby:

_Hush-by, don't you cry_

_Go to sleep my little baby_

_When you wake, you shall have_

_All the pretty little horses_

_Blacks and bays, dapples and grays_

_Coach and six little horses_

_When you wake you shall have_

_All the pretty little horses_

_Hush-by, don't you cry_

_Go to sleep my little baby_

_When you wake you shall have_

_All the pretty little horses._

I finish of the lullaby and look at my daughter. She is sleeping soundly in my lap, her breathing soft. I smile to myself and lift her up, setting her softly down onto the bed. She makes a noise of protest, but she soon settles back into her deep slumber. I pull the quilt back over her and lean down, kissing her forward.

"Goodnight, Danielle."

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**Thanks for reading! The lullaby is, in fact, real. It's called, obviously, "All the Pretty Little Horses". We played this song at my band concert last month and it is absolutely beautiful. :) **

** I hope you enjoyed it!**


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